


Greenbank Transmissions

by appalachianemo



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast), The Adventure Zone: Amnesty (Podcast)
Genre: Spoilers for Episode: e060-066 The Stolen Century Parts 1-7, and i guess spoilers for the episode 26 of amnesty, god help me for deciding to write this entire thing after listening to the episode today
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 17:55:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18526633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appalachianemo/pseuds/appalachianemo
Summary: So what if some of those recordings Duck listened to at Greenbank were from a certain seven other people we all seem to love? Let's find out.or: The IPRE kept trying to send messages to their home world but Earth picked them up instead.





	Greenbank Transmissions

Duck tried not to linger on Minerva's music, if she had some way to get in touch with him she would. Besides, there were other recordings and maybe they meant something. Maybe that music wasn’t from Minerva's planet at all. He hit play on the third track and was met with a long spanse of silence before he was met with music again. Except this time it was familiar for a far different reason. Somehow, this giant space telescope had been Rick-rolled by deep space. There was no denying it, especially has Rick Astley's voice drifted in. It was grainy and almost indecipherable, but the words were there.

Duck smiled and flipped the switch off before moving to the next one. It was actually a series of clips titled 'Flight from the Storm'. They were dated anywhere between a few months and a few years apart. There seemed to be no consistent time of year that they came through. Though, Duck could see the Observatory hadn’t received any since 2015. He was immediately met with loud static that continued through this first clip, often drowning out whoever was speaking

 _H-hello? This... This is Captain_ _—_ _port of the Starblaster. IPRE Head_ _—_ _are you there? We're— Yes, yes Magnus I see.— ssaulted by a... A storm? I'm not—_

The recording abruptly cut off, leaving Duck reeling, and was replaced by another. The same voice drifting through the speakers again. There was significantly less static this time, instead just a hum in the background.

_This is Captain Davenport, Cycle 22. We lost security officer Magnus Burnsides again, but he will be back. Again. We hope. Everyone else aboard the starblaster is accounted for. We seem to be stuck in an endless cycle. A few days after we land the Light of Creation falls. Sometimes we recover it immediately, though sometimes we never do. At the end of a year the color will begin to drain from the planet, Cleric Highchurch becomes cut off from his deity Pan. Within forty-eight hours the storm we've come to call the Hunger descends. If we have managed to capture the light the plane is assaulted, but ultimately fine. If we are unable to recover the light, the Hunger consumes the plane and absorbs it entirely._

_We are not sure how, but at the end of each year the fabric between the planes becomes_ **_-JIGGLY!!!-_ ** _Taako! This is serious! Yes, space becomes... jiggly. and we are able to slip into another plane. We've done this twenty-two, or twenty-three I suppose, times now. Once we break through to a new plane the bond engine seems to restitch us together exactly how we were when we left home. Even if one of us has died. This is also negating any aging we should have done over the past two decades. That's all the information we have for now. Next time we are able to make contact we will send another transmission._

Duck wasn’t sure where these were coming from but the change from the first recording to the second was astounding. They'd clearly gotten used to this running, but someone died? Not only died once, but kept coming back. Nor were they aging. How long are they going to be running from whatever this is? How long until their last chance?

 _This is Merle Hightower Highchurch, Cleric. This is a report from cycle 30, 31, and 32. While on that planet, Tesseract,_ **_-Tesseralia, old man-_ ** _Right, thanks Lulu._ **_-Watch it. I’m not afraid to light you on fire-_ ** _So this lady at a monastery had the Light of Foundation_ **_-Creation-_ ** _That. Anyways, so she wanted one of us to learn this thing called Parley and of course because I'm the religious one it had to be me. If you do it right, it opens up a... A uh, Lup what's it called?_ **_-Basically a pocket dimension-_ ** _Okay. Pocket dimension of sorts. And let's me try and make peace with an enemy. They can kill me but I can't kill them._

 _So I pulled the Hunger, John, into parley. He's killed my ass three times now but that's alright. We know I'll come back. He's really a nice guy. He's tall, dressed sharp. Kinda a downer, but I've got hope for him._ **_-Merle, the point of this-_ ** _Oh! Yeah. He was a motivational speaker that just, hated everything. So somehow he joined with something else and just started... Consuming entire planes of existence. But if we have the light of creation he can't do that. I'll try and update again after the next Parley. Over and Out Merle Highchurch._

This sounded like some weird d&d shit. A cleric, pocket dimensions. Planes instead of just... earth. Then again the same thing could probably be argued about his own life right now. Duck didn’t have much more time to think as the next clip cut in almost immediately. The static on this one .

 _Uh... Magnus.... Burnsides? Security officer, if our hired_ _positions are s_ _ill even relevant. Resident rough boy if it’s not._ _Cycle_ _48\. Our last cycle we picked up a jellyfish! I think! Their name is Fisher and they don't need_ _to live in water but they’re i_ _n it anyways and they're sweet and I love them. The reason for this transmission is because they seemed to have reset with us. Me and Buh— Dr. Bluejeans are_ _keeping an_ _eye on them to make sure there are no_ _weird_ _side effects. We're halfway through the cycle and so far Fisher is doing just fine. Did find out they can eat_ _—_ _erase it from existence, but we've known that. Anyways! That's it... Uh. Bye._

 _This is Dr. Barold Bluejeans, Scientist and Necroma_ _ncer. To ex_ _pand on Mr. Burnsides, the jellyfish seems to be a semi-intelligent being. They have no way to communicate with us but seems to understand and respond to statements directed towards them._ **_-Barold his name is Fisher!-_ ** _Magnus I thought you left._ **_-I wanted to see what you said about my buddy-_ ** _... Anyways Fisher seems to_ _like Mr. Burnsides_ _the most and be closest with him. Fisher seems to frequently ask Magnus for gifts. Specifically wooden Ducks. I will continue to monitor them and their growth for as long as they're with us._

Duck was astounded by how calm they all seemed, and the necromancy honestly. Both by the sentient Jellyfish and by the fact that they were still trapped in this time loop after almost 48 years. They seemed so... okay? He absently wondered if they were still being chased by that storm, the Hunger, or if it had left them alone. There was a loud burst of static as the next clip came through

 _This— This is Lucretia, mission chronic_ _—_ _65\. We were shot down out of_ _—_ _by the residents of this plane. The other six were captured by the militia_ _—_ _The starblaster and I managed to esc_ _—_ _ntly in hiding as I have attempted repairs. All of my knowledge of how to fly_ _—_ _the past year. None of the others have been_ _—_ _on their stones. I can only assume at this point they're_ _—_ _Has killed them... The Hunger is expected_ _—_ _Fuck. Oh gods. Oh no. It's... It's early—_

Duck felt his heart jump into his throat. He was surprised by how young Lucretia sounded. More than that, he was terrified. He couldn't hear everything but he could hear Lucretia yelling cut with bits if static. After another minute Lucretia's voice came back, heavily cut with static.

 _Come on baby_ _—_ _Come on. Let's_ _—_ _We can do this... Not today you son of a bitch!_

There was a crash, followed by another long silence. Duck felt his blood run cold, his hands shaking. He found himself hoping, wishing for another clip to come on. He had such a hope for these people to make it. They seemed oddly hopeful after all these cycles of running. He just wanted to see them come out on top. He definitely didn’t want them to die. After what felt like an eternity, an brand new voice drifted through the speakers.

_Hey, it’s Taako, y’know from the Starblaster? They chef yall hired? Yeah well now I’m also basically the most badass transmutation wizard in existence. This is cycle 95_

_-And Lup, other chef and Evocation Wizard_

_^A-and Barry, Scientist and Necromancer. Taako, are you good now? Do you have anything else to add to this transmission?_

_Nah, Taako’s out. Bye! Have fun you two!_

_-So a few cycles ago, Barry and I turned ourselves into liches. We’d had too many close encounters with the Hunger and we figured if one of us couldn’t ever die then none of would die. Barry didn’t want to do it alone, so I agreed to join him._

_^To be fair, love, you also didn’t want me to do it alone because, and I quote, your boyfriend couldn’t out-goth you._

_-Not now babe, this is a serious work transmission. I am still able to use my evocation magic as a lich. Barry, obviously, can still do his necromancy shit as a lich. We decided to do this on a world where their Plane of Magic had been… Knocked out of place, for lack of better term, and was intersecting their prime material plane. The entire plane was empty other than the seven of us. So far the lichification has had no negative consequences. Barry, do you want to report the rest of our findings?_

_^Yeah sure. So, to give more backstory to this next part. We’ve been experimenting with the light of creation. We know that it’s what the Hunger is after so we’ve been thinking if we could destroy it or maybe lessen its thrall the Hunger wouldn’t be able to find it and we could starve it out and defeat it once and for all. We’ve all learned artificing and Lup and I have proposed the idea of splitting the Light into seven different objects and spreading it across the planet. However our chronicler, Lucretia seems to be… Insistent, that we cut plane we land on off from all of the other planes. The celestial plane, astral plane, the magic plane. Everything._

_-She doesn’t quite see why this is such a bad idea._

Duck did. He knew the bare minimum about dungeons and dragons, but if this was anything like that. That means people would be cut off from gods and from… Dying he supposed. That was just so obviously a terrible idea.

_^We’ve voted and majority has agreed to the relic plan. With any hope, there are very few transmissiond left. This is all for now._

For the first time since Duck had started listening to this, he felt the slightest bit of hope. These people could do it. They could survive whatever it was that was hunting them. Listening to them go through this almost century long nightmare made him feel just a touch guilty for bitching about his destiny with Minerva. There was a few more transmissions but they were mostly static and cut in and out. And they were all recorded by Lucretia. Duck wasn’t sure what had happened but he had the general idea that the other six just… Weren’t around. Lucretia had done something with them, but they had also done something with the hunger. Or so he thought until the last transmission cut through. The voices were almost unable to be heard under the static.

 _This is Captain Davenport. We are flying— We are flying straight into the Hunger. We’ve starved it off for ten years now, and it’s time. Magnus! Watch— Fuck! We’re… We’re going to fight this asshole for the last time. We’re going to destroy it and_ **_-Davenport!-_ ** _Not._ **_-Davenport! DAVENPORT!!-_ ** _Alright buddy, dance for me… Hang on!_

There was a crash, and then the transmission cut out. There was nothing left. Duck sat down in the desk chair that was nearby, still trying to process what he’d just heard. He’d been so engrossed in the reports from this group that he hadn’t noticed when Sarah had come back into the room. He had no idea how long he’d even been standing there. At some point he’d taken off his hat again. There were no more recordings, no more reports of anything. That was it. Just this… Family flying tirelessly into a storm that had chased them for a hundred years. Hoping that this would finally be enough.

“That’s real rough ain’t it?” Sarah’s voice was shockingly loud in the silence that had filled the room. “All ‘em folks flyin into that death hunger thing and we don’t even know what happened?”

“Yeah, man…” Duck stared at the plaque in front of him, _Flight from the Storm._ “And that’s really it? That’s all there is?”

Sarah bit her nails for a second, thinking. “Well. There is one. We got it at the same time as that last one from Davenport or whoever. It’s never been officially connected but… Well. We all think it is.”

She pressed play on another transmission. This one was just titled ‘Fight’. This one wasn’t as clear as all of the other ones. It was staticky, and missing entire chunks in places. What Duck could hear, though, was a strange, haunting song. Mostly just a single violin and a strange almost singing. An odd duet of a seven note melody that felt like the end of the world and a new beginning all in once. Duck didn’t understand what it was, or if maybe he was just imagining it, but he felt hope. In the odd crackles and static he could just barely make out a voice speaking at the very end. A voice almost drowned out, but nonetheless giving him the message.

_You’re going to have to fight… And you’re gonna win!_

**Author's Note:**

> as usual, thank you for reading!! if you wanna swing by my tumblr and yell at me you can do so @[emomagnusburnsides](https://emomagnusburnsides.tumblr.com)


End file.
